


all because of you

by lilabut



Series: illuminate the heart [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 17:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8999515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilabut/pseuds/lilabut
Summary: Christmas is right around the corner, and Carol has a little secret surprise in store for Daryl.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place roughly two years after **a curious speck**.
> 
> If you want to read the smut that takes place before this chapter, head [over here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8718082/chapters/20550682).

if only you knew  
the sunlight shines a little brighter,  
the weight of the world’s a little lighter,  
the stars lean in a little closer  
all because of you.

_**daughter, sleeping at last** _

 

**december 1 st**

 

_In the end, Carol isn't surprised that he unknowingly tickled her secret from her. That she feels so loved and warm and happy in this moment that she can't hold it in anymore. It glows in her like a small flame and she bites her bottom lip nervously before speaking with a hoarse and sleepy voice, just barely above a whisper. Her heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird._

 

_'Daryl?'_

 

_He stirs a little under her, likely already starting to fall asleep. But he hums anyway, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. She wonders briefly if he can feel her heartbeat picking up. If he does, he doesn't say anything, just continues with the gentle caresses along her arm and the even rise and fall of his chest that his breathing provides._

 

_'I need to tell you something.'_

 

Daryl stiffens a little under her, the finger drawing patterns on her arm pausing as he waits for what she has to say. _I think I'm pregnant._

 

The words roll off her tongue like a relief. Daryl sits up instantly, balancing his weight on his elbows. When she looks up at him with a gentle smile curling her lips, his own expression is dumbfounded more than anything. _What?_ he asks, a touch of wonder to his surprised question.

 

 _I think I'm pregnant again._ She has been suspecting it for a little while now, but until this very moment she didn't want to share her hopeful suspicion with Daryl. Getting his hopes up when there's chance of crushing them again seemed too cruel. Her plan had been to take a test and make sure, maybe wait until Christmas to tell him. But with the warm, thick feeling of comfort embracing her in this moment, she just couldn't wait.

 

 _I just feel-_ she starts explaining, feeling a little overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of Daryl's stare. _I don't know, yet._ She sighs, drawing her fingers over his chest, her next next words a mere hopeful whisper. _But think I really I might be._

 

Daryl's blue eyes are shining now, reflecting the dim golden glow of the Christmas lights. _For real?_ he asks, voice completely stunned. She gives him a slight nod, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. _Carol- I- This is..._ His stuttering is endearing. Seemingly caught between being happy and holding back that joy, he eyes her with concern.

 

 _Are you okay with this?_ he asks with a low voice, cupping her cheek in his palm. She understands where his worry stems from. Over the past few years, the topic of having more children only came up a handful of times. He'd always been open about his wish for more, the hesitation entirely on her part.

 

But she wants this. Wants this baby with him.

 

The second she nods, a grin spreads across his face unlike any she has ever seen before. _Jesus,_ he gasps, curling his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. _I love ya so much._ His lips find hers in a kiss rendered sloppy by the heat of the moment. She slows him down a little, lips moving gently like a promise.

 

She yelps a little when he suddenly pulls away, eyes wide with panic. _Jesus, ya should've told me before we- Damn it, I could've crushed ya just now._ The words leave him in a barely comprehensible rush, his hands running over her ribs to rest on her belly and back to her cheek. _Y'all right?_

 

She reassures him with a chaste kiss, not taking his concerns for granted or brushing them off. _I'm fine, Daryl,_ she breathes into the kiss, brushing her thumb against the side of his neck. _It's okay. And we don't know yet. Maybe..._ Pressing one last kiss to his lips she pulls back and rests her cheek against his shoulder. _I could pick up a test tomorrow. Then we'll know._

 

He nods before resting his chin on the crown of her head, his arm curled around her shoulder pulling her gently into his side. _I hope..._ Whatever he has been about to say fades into silence, the words no more than a whisper to begin with. But she feels the same hope, can already imagine it all when she allows her eyes to flutter shut. Another baby that is their own, the same journey they have traveled before, only now they are ready for it and can face it together as a family, not as two strangers finding each other along the way.

 

_Me, too._

 

**december 2 nd**

 

 _Probably just wrong,_ Daryl mutters as he tosses the negative pregnancy test into the trash. The guest bathroom door is wide open, reducing the space in the hallway to essentially nothing. Stuck between disappointment and irritation, Carol watches as Daryl throws the white plastic away, balancing their fussing son on her hip. _Was the cheap one, right?_ He still sounds hopeful, giving her a half-hearted grin and casting a glance down to the second test, waiting for them on the counter.

 

 _Yes,_ she sighs, her arm already tired from the weight of their son. _Maybe. Did you look at the ti-_ A bark interrupts her question, distant and muffled but clear enough. They let the dog out earlier to run around the garden for a while, the backdoor shut to keep the chilly air out.

 

 _Elsa!_ The little boy in her arms announces excitedly, clapping his hands and bouncing on her hip. She can find no comfort in his joy right now, disappointment and confusion settling deep in her bones.

 

 _-at the time?_ she finishes with a sigh, trying to blend out her son's fussing and the dog's high-pitched barking.

 

_Elsa back in!_

 

A look of pity crosses Daryl's face that she detests, and she turns away from it quickly, locking her disappointment away. _Yes. We're letting her back in,_ she says to her son, granting him a thin-lipped smile. But the little boy doesn’t notice the lack of joy behind it, too absorbed in his excitement. _Come on._

 

Cold air hits her overheated skin when she pulls the door open, the pearly-white bundle of fluff they call their own bouncing excitedly. She rushes inside quickly with a wiggling tail, pushing up against Carol's legs and responding eagerly to the little boy's excited repetitions of her name. Kneeling down, Carol gives the little one a ruffle behind her ears, her fur so impossibly soft. She watches as her son reaches out with a small hand, patting the dog's head a little clumsily but earning himself a nudge to the belly with a wet nozzle. The giggle he releases at that still isn't enough to make her smile.

 

The loud beeping of the timer on Daryl's phone interrupts the moment, and she sucks in a deep breath before rising back up and making her way outside. Daryl is leaning against the wall in the hallway, arms crossed, phone in his palm. Turned away from the bathroom. From the truth.

 

 _Do you want to check?_ Carol asks him, too afraid to see the proof of her mistake once again. But it _has_ to be positive - she'd been so sure. Still is, can feel it in her heart.

 

Daryl opens his mouth to speak, but their son beats him too it, oblivious to the bitterness that transpires around him.

 

 _Geddy?_ he asks, blue eyes wide.

 

 _No, sweetie, we're not having spaghetti tonight._ There's no harshness to her voice but there's also little sweetness to the endearment, and when her son begins to pout in a familiar way, she sets him down on the floor. Walking over to Daryl, intent now to check the damn test herself, she barely manages to look him in the eye. _I think he's about three seconds away from a tantrum._

 

Giving Daryl no time to reply, she steps into the bathroom, watching her own pale face in the mirror. One more deep breath, her fingers curled around the edge of the counter, she gathers the last of her courage. As she looks down, her heart sinks.

 

Negative. Again.

 

 _And?_ Daryl’s voice is soft from the doorway, and she can see him in the mirror, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes half hidden by his hair, shoulders hunched. And still, even under all that, she can still spot a glimmer of hope. It is quenched when she softly shakes her head before hanging it low, tears quickly forming and trailing down her cheeks.

 

His steps are quiet and slow, the warmth of him seeping into her back when he steps up behind her and rests his hands on her shoulders. _Ya wanna take the last one?_ It's just a whisper, his cheek presses to the side of her head. Comforting her. She shakes her head just barely, too crushed to be proven wrong a third time.

 

 _I'm sorry,_ she sobs, unable to meet his gaze in the mirror. Old demons come rushing back, the same old feeling of inadequacy she'd felt when she told Ed their baby was a girl and not the boy he'd wanted. It feels much the same now, and even though she knows Daryl would never.... It's certain that she has disappointed him, has given him false hope.

 

 _Hey,_ he breathes, gently applying pressure to her shoulders and turning her. _'s okay, sweetheart._ He is merciful enough not to force her to look at him, instead cradling her head into his chest and curling one arm around her waist. The weight of this loss hits her so much harder than she expected. As excited as she'd been by the possibility of another child, she'd never had the same desperate need for one the way Daryl does. It was a welcome surprise, but no more than that. Only now, it feels like someone took away a piece of her heart she never knew she'd given away.

 

 _Mommy sad?_ The soft voice startles her as much as the gentle tug on the leg of her pants. Looking down, she is met with her son, standing on slightly wobbly legs in his starry night pajamas, barefoot and with his trusted stuffed Olaf clutched to his chest. Behind him, Elsa is sitting in the door frame, wiggling her white tail.

 

The sight of them, both of them, combined with the warmth of Daryl's embrace, is enough to ease some of her pain. _Just a little bit, darling,_ she reassures him, watching as Daryl bends down to pick him up. Her hand finds her son's rosy cheeks, fingers briefly sifting through his dark blonde hair - Daryl’s hair. It's the same mess, curling and spiking around his perfect, tiny ear. _Just a little,_ she repeats, pressing a kiss to her son's cheek and melting into Daryl's embrace.

 

**december 4 th**

 

 _Try to cook at least once, okay?_ Carol looks at Daryl with raised brows, her hand toying with the handle of her suitcase. Everyone is lined up in the hallway in their pajamas - everyone except her. Thick coat, gloves and scarf make her feel overdressed compared to Daryl in his worn shirt and sweats, Sophia in her unicorn onesie and their son bouncing on Daryl’s hip with his fluffy frog pajamas. Elsa sits by Sophia’s feet, yawning, her white fur blending perfectly with the unicorn's pearly leg.

 

Daryl lifts a hand in defeat, the other holding up their son. _What'ya think I'm gonna do? Feed 'em pizza all weekend?_ Sophia chuckles next to him, trying to hide it behind the back of her hand.

 

 _I know that's what you want to feed yourself,_ Carol says with a smile, hiding her laughter at Daryl's expression. _And don't try to talk him into staying up late, Sophia._ She knows her daughter excels at talking Daryl into pretty much everything as soon as she's gone, but she wants to at least try to save him from her. After all, he’s defenseless against her little girl. _Their_ little girl.

 

Sophia rolls her eyes in the same mock offense that Daryl had shown, but she eagerly wraps her arms around Carol's middle for a hug, pressing her cheek against her stomach. _Bye, mom._ It only makes her dread this weekend-long seminar even more. She'll barely be gone three days, but as she strokes her daughter's hair, Carol realizes she has never been away from them all this long. Has never left the children with Daryl for this long. Has never left Sophia behind for this long. All the trust they have built over the years is beginning to sway, and she struggles to keep it standing.

 

A pair of small hands suddenly tugs at her arm, and she turns to see her son reaching out for her, tears brimming in his eyes. _Miss you, Mommy_ , he hiccups through tears he tries to hold back, nearly tumbling right off Daryl's hip in his attempt to get to her.

 

Unfolding herself from her daughter's embrace, Carol takes her son from Daryl, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of his head and swallowing the lump in her own throat. _I'll miss you, too._ For a moment longer she holds him against her, his legs locked around her waist, small head cradled against her shoulder. With deep inhales she tries to memorize the scent of him, all soft and sweet, running her fingertips up and down his back the way she knows always calms him down.

 

Eventually, though, it's time to part ways. She is beginning to run late, adrenaline already pumping through her veins at the possibility of missing her train and having to go through the mess of rescheduling everything. Reluctantly, she hands their son back to Daryl, offering the little boy a comforting smile and one last kiss to his forehead.

 

Her hand comes to rest on Daryl’s chest, not even bothering trying to hide the tears that glisten in her eyes. He'd see them from a mile away. Pressing her lips to his in a quick kiss, she struggles to pull herself away. _See you on Monday,_ she finally says, a little hitch to her voice.

 

She sighs as Daryl cups her cheek in his palm. _Love ya,_ he says quietly, and her heart feels so full when she steps out of the door that she has to wipe away the first tear before she even makes it to her car.

 

**december 5 th**

 

 _Okay, say goodnight to mommy._ His damned legs are falling asleep at rapid speed, crossed on the mattress and with his son balanced on top of them. Ain't like the kid weighs much, but his little man is going on three years old and has been less fussy about food lately than before. And his legs are currently paying the prize for that.

 

The laptop wobbles a little as Sophia stretches her legs, and panic shoots through Daryl when Elsa stirs awake, lifting her face and yawning, almost the entire length of her hidden behind the laptop screen. If Carol found out he let the dog on the bed, she'd kick his ass even all the way from Atlanta.

 

Taking his son's hand in his own, Daryl waves at the camera, watching Carol do the same on the other side before blowing them a kiss. _Night, Mommy!_

 

The mattress moans when his son crawls off his lap, blood beginning to flow back into his thighs, and Daryl instantly stretches them out, eyes fixed on the little boy. Crawling across the mattress, he has a bright smile on his face when he hears his mother's voice. _Goodnight, sweetie,_ she says softly, and then gasps when the little guy presses a kiss to the laptop screen.

 

It's a sight that only makes him miss Carol more, and he knows it's even harder for the kids to be separated from her this long. _Time for bed, little man,_ he announces, swinging his legs off the bed and holding his hands out for his son. He, however, seems to have a different plan entirely.

 

Crossing his short arms in front of his chest, he glares up at Daryl with his bottom lip forming a perfect pout. _No._

 

The complete sincerity of the word would make Daryl laugh if he wasn't so startled by it. _No?_

 

_No._

 

Sophia giggles heartily at her brother's defiance, and Carol joins in, the sound of her laughter slightly distorted by his laptop's crappy speakers. _I'll let you handle that,_ she says with a grin, and he gives them both a glare for their complete lack of support. _Sophia, tell me about the movie._

 

Chatting about the movie Sophia saw at the cinema earlier today, her and Carol completely abandon him with his very determinedly _not tired_ son. Small arms and legs toss around when he picks him up from the bed, but all the spaghetti in the world can't make him win this fight.

 

Excited by the commotion, Daryl can hear Elsa jumping off the bed to follow him into the nursery, and the sound of her paws hitting the floor is unmistakable, making him flinch and pause.

 

 _Did Elsa just jump off the bed?_ Carol asks, her face now hidden with the screen turning away from him. Daryl and Sophia lock eyes, the girl's cheeks flushed, and Daryl decide that now is the right time for payback, shrugging his shoulders and quickly hurrying out of the room.

 

 

 

_I miss you._

 

He nearly misses Carol's words, too engrossed in picking white fluff from his dark blue sweatpants. They're either remnants of Sophia's unicorn onesie or balls of fur from Elsa.

 

He'd wanted to get a big dog. A sturdy one, the kind he'd always wanted as a kid to protect him. The kind he'd never felt responsible enough to own. And after months of him and Sophia diligently talking Carol into the idea, they'd gone to the shelter and who fell in love with him (jumping all over him and wiggling her tail and licking his face)? Elsa. The tiny Maltese with her pearly white fur who from afar looks like a ball of fucking cotton candy on four short legs, whose barks sound more like the squeaky toys she loves so much. But there'd never been a point to resisting her, and no matter how many lap dog jokes the guys at work make, she's worth all of them.

 

He knows she is asleep in in the hallway outside the kids' rooms right now, just like every night, protecting them the very same way he'd always longed for.

 

Once he finally processes Carol's words, spoken with a sleepy voice as she rests against the headrest of her hotel room, he huffs out a short laugh. Inside, however, he can't fight the sting her words cause – he misses her like crazy, wishes she could be here with him. _You've been gone one day,_ he quips, trying hard to sound light. In truth, a lot weighs him down. They didn't get a chance to really talk about what happened, about the baby they almost got to have. The very real possibility of having another child with Carol had taken him completely by surprise. And the impact of losing that chance still rattles him. More importantly: it had wrecked Carol.

 

 _You don't miss me then?_ Carol asks with a fake pout, truly earning herself a laugh then.

 

 _This some trick question?_ The laugh they share is easy and comfortable, and only makes him long for her even more. The Christmas lights from outside fill the room with a hazy glow, and he burrows a little further into the soft bed, watching Carol's face light up with her smile.

 

He has no idea how he ever managed to get out of bed in the morning without her in his life. How he kept going without her laugh and smile, her sweet touches and soft voice, without their kids and the home they made this place into. Looking back, he never had much to live for. But he kept going, and when his eyes fall on the framed picture on Carol's bedside table, it's all too clear what he was holding out for. All of them smiling, last winter's snow piling up high around them, nearly swallowing Elsa whole.

 

 _Miss ya, too,_ he eventually replies, a little bit out of breath. For a moment he pauses, considering whether or not to ask the question that tickles the tip of his tongue. They need to talk about this eventually, but not like this. Not with all these miles between them. But there is one thing he does need to know, won't be able to find any rest – just like last night when he'd tossed and turned in the empty bed. _Y'all right?_ His question is quiet, and the smile on her face only fades slightly.

 

She'd been much more upset about not being pregnant than he expected. Hell, the fact that she was excited about it in the first place was the best thing about her news. Another child is something he wants desperately, but he wants her to want it too. And she had wanted it, he could feel it in her grief when they were left disappointed.

 

Her soft smile seems genuine, but something else lingers there, something he can't quite put his finger on. _I am. Don't worry about that._

 

She's dismissing him and it bugs him, especially because he can't quite figure out if she's lying or not. Something distracts him then, though. She shifts on her bed, the laptop moving just a fraction, but light suddenly floods the screen where her face was previously mostly cloaked in semi-darkness. _Ya really feeling good?_ he asks, taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks. _Look like a tomato._

 

The way she draws her bottom lip between her teeth sends his thoughts to rather inconvenient places, and the teasing, almost lilting tone to her next words don't help his situation at all. _Oh, I got bored when you put Sophia to bed._

 

He swallows, eyes fixed on her face, the twinkle in her eyes, the flush on her cheeks. _Bored?_ he asks, voice embarrassingly high.

 

She only hums in return, leaning her head back until is rests against the headrest, her eyes fluttering shut. Not quite believing that she's really doing what he thinks she might be doing, Daryl clears his throat, trying hard to ignore the fact that all his blood seems to rush south. His loose and worn sweatpants don't do much to conceal his predicament.

 

 _Carol?_ It's no more than a murmur, his hand fidgeting on his thigh.

 

Her eyes drift open headily, her breathing much more labored than before, and she casts him a coy look. _Yes?_

 

 _What'ya doin'?_ he rasps, cursing the webcam for only showing so little of her. All he can see is her face, framed by the mess of her auburn curls she's started to grow back out, and her chest, not even all the way down to her breasts. A sliver of pale skin peeks out under her robe, the thin strap of a nightgown teasing him further.

 

He wants to see more, mind reeling as he imagines the swell of her breasts under the silk, how her stomach muscles must flutter, whether she's wearing something underneath. Her long legs parted, and her own hand... Fucking hell. He needs to know what exactly she's doing that's making her so flushed, and yet at the same time, his own cheeks are reddening from embarrassment because this isn't them. They're not the kind of people who-

 

 _What do you think I'm going?_ Carol asks innocently but with a raised brow, interrupting his thoughts. The way she cranes her head back and lets out a soft moan is more than enough confirmation, and he forgets all about being shy.

 

 _Jesus,_ he grunts instead, making quick work of reaching into his sweatpants and curling his hand around himself.

 

He doesn't miss the way the corners of her mouth twitch when he quietly groans her name.

 

**december 7 th**

 

It's cold enough outside for the ground to be covered in a thin blanket of ice, the bare branches of the trees glistening, towering above them like blood vessels against the canvas of the afternoon sky. The air is fresh and crisp the way it only ever is in the winter, filling his lungs and putting lightness into his steps.

 

The park is almost abandoned, people either still stuck at work or not exactly drawn outside once the temperatures drop. As the gravel path crunches beneath their boots, Daryl keeps a careful eye on Elsa, running ahead of them with her nose hovering just above the ground, lingering here and there for a particularly interesting smell.

 

 _'nother stick, Daddy!_ His son exclaims, most of his face hidden behind his hat and scarf. _'nother stick!_ Daryl had spent the last ten minutes throwing sticks across the wide expanses of lawn, occasionally handing one to his son to cast a few feet away. His little face lit up each time Elsa came running back with them between her teeth, a look of pride as if he'd thrown them a mile away. Sophia is holding his hand now as his small feet navigate the uneven path.

 

 _Not now, Jack,_ Daryl explains, his son's face instantly taken over by disappointment. _She needs to pee._

 

Jack nods, acting a lot more reasonable than Daryl expected considering all the tantrums he's been throwing lately, developing quite the personality. Sophia chuckles then, leaning down to half-whisper in her brother's ear, loud enough for Daryl to hear. _He's just tired._ The kids both giggle at that, Jack nearly losing balance and gripping his sister's hand tighter.

 

Daryl knows she's referring to the fact that he nearly fell asleep over making her lunchbox this morning. Jack kept him up all night, fussing about this and that and having nightmares, crying because he misses his mommy and then finally, finally falling sleep on Daryl's chest in the early morning hours. He knows he's not as good at this as Carol is – or maybe she just hides her exhaustion better.

 

 _I ain't tired,_ he insists stubbornly as his kids laugh. Choosing to ignore the fun they're poking at him, he instead watches the dog do her business by a frozen bush. Clouds are beginning to cover the blue sky, and he can feel the air around them changing. _We need ta get back soon. 's getting' real cold._ Jack looks a little disappointed, despite the fact that his cheeks and nose are gleaming already. He loves being outside, and as proud and happy about it as Daryl is, it can be exhausting at times like these. When it's too cold or too hot. _Gonna snow later,_ he promises, the smell in the air seemingly confirming the weather report he heard on the radio earlier.

 

The little boy's eyes light up like fireworks and he bounces a little, looking up at the sky. _I love snow._

 

 _I know you do, kid,_ Daryl says with a smile, rubbing his son's head through the hat Carol knit last month, and he kneels down to adjust his scarf. They've stopped walking, and Daryl doesn't miss the moment Jack's eyes turn thoughtful.

 

 _Can mommy see the snow?_ he wonders out loud, tears already glistening in his blue eyes.

 

With a sigh, Daryl leans in closer, briefly watching Sophia's sad smile before focusing on his son. _Mommy's comin' home tonight, remember?_ he says, tapping his small nose. It tears him apart to see his little boy so sad.

 

He seems to remember then, the plans they made to drive to the store later and buy food, to cook dinner together and surprise Carol with it. A bright smile spreads across his face, warming Daryl's heart, and when he snuggles into Daryl’s chest, all sorrows are forgotten.

 

**december 13 th**

 

_Daryl, it's way too big. It'll never fit._

 

_Always made it work before._

 

_Yes, but-_

 

_Carol, it'll be fine. Just gotta jam it in and it'll be all right._

 

Shaking her head, Carol throws her hands up in defeat. _Fine. Go ahead. But if it doesn't work, don't complain._

 

_It'll work,_ he assures her, looking way too sure of himself.

 

In the end, he has every right to be.

 

She watches as he drags the massive Christmas tree through the front door, leaving a mess of scattered needles in the hallway floor. The kids and Elsa are running around excitedly, Jack still wearing his scarf and hat that he'd forgotten to take off, and from the living room, the gentle tune of Christmas music fills the air.

 

Daryl and the kids had gone to pick a tree on their own after she decided to stay back home, her head pounding. She should have known it wouldn't end with a reasonable choice, and she'd been proven right when she opened the front door and saw the tree – almost twice the size of last year's, and that hadn't been small, either. Briefly, she wonders if they even have enough ornaments for this monster.

 

She can't help but chuckle a little when the tree gets stuck in the living room door just like she predicted, Daryl’s mumbled curse a small gratification. It only lasts a few seconds, though before Daryl does just what he announced, jamming the tree through the door with all the force he can muster – and he actually makes it work. Stumbling into the living room with his kids' cheers joining the mellow music, he turns and grins at her proudly.

 

 _You're an idiot,_ she announces, arms crossed in front of her chest as she steps over towards him.

 

He smells of pine and snow, his cheeks flushed and lips cold when he presses them to hers in a chaste kiss. _Love ya, too._

 

 _Can we make it look pretty now?_ Carol looks over Daryl’s shoulder, seeing Sophia sitting crossed-legged on a box of Christmas decorations they'd dragged down from the attic this morning. She's balancing a string of fairy lights on her lap, swaying softly to the song on the radio. Jack is more productive than his sister, already dragging copious amounts of tinsel from a different box that Carol hasn't seen since she was a teenager. Elsa, completely enthralled by the strings of glittery foil, is circling around him with a wiggling tail.

 

Feeling Daryl's arm curling around her middle and pulling her gently into his side, she smiles at the sight of their children, leaning into him.

 

**december 17 th**

 

 _He doesn't really need it, though, does he?_ Carol shifts a little on the bed, burying her feet deeper into the comforter as she kneads her hands together, the smell of her lotion filling the warm room. She watches Daryl from the corner of her eyes, fidgeting with the hem of his worn shirt.

 

 _Yeah, I guess,_ he mutters, staring at the patchwork pattern of their comforter. He'd mentioned buying a fire truck for Jack, the kind he could sit in and drive around with. It surely wasn't part of their original gift plan, but his eyes had gleamed when he told her how much their son enjoyed driving around with it the other day when he took him to his play date.

 

She understands what this is about – why her reluctance to add this as a last minute gift seems to wear him down. It's the same thing every Christmas, before each birthday or holiday. In his eyes, she can see all the missed Christmases, all the present he never got as a child. He wants to make up for all that now, for his lost childhood, by giving his children everything he never had. That's why she's not upset about the idea of spoiling them a little every now and then. _Maybe we can save it for his birthday,_ she suggests with a smile he can't return yet. _He hasn't asked for anything yet._

 

 _Kid ain't ever askin' for anything._ Daryl sighs in defeat, almost as if their son's sense of modesty is messing with his plans. _Just thought-_

 

 _Daryl, it's okay,_ she interrupts him, taking his hand in her own and snuggling into his side. It's a small way to reassure him, and she feels a familiar sadness and frustration running thickly through her veins. She hates it when he gets like this, when he doubts himself as a father when in truth, he is giving the kids absolutely everything he has and more. And still he often believes it's not enough. _He's getting plenty._

 

His arm curls around her back instinctively, pulling her a little closer to him. _I know._ After that, he is silent for a while, his hand tracing up and down the ridges of her spine in a soothing rhythm that slowly lulls her to sleep. _We haven't talked about...,_ he suddenly mutters, interrupting the silence and causing her eyes to shoot open. _Ya know?_

 

Her whole body tenses at his hesitant question. She had hoped he wouldn't bring it up again without her prompting the conversation. _Daryl-_

 

Before she can say more than that he shifts until he can look down at her, clearly nervous to bring this up. The fact that he still made himself say the words stirs some guilt inside of her for not wanting to discuss this with him right now. _Just wanna know if y'all right. And if..._ Hope flickers across his face like the lights on the huge Christmas tree downstairs, and it nearly crumbles her heart to pieces. _If that's something ya might want some day?_

 

The smile she gives him is genuine, but she knows he thinks it isn't. _We'll talk about it, okay? Just not now._ She means it. Wants to tell him the truth, but now is simply not the time. She won't make that mistake again. _I'm okay, though_ , she says quietly to reassure him and in the pause that follows she lifts her hand to his cheek, feeling the stubble against her palm. _Are you?_

 

When Daryl smiles, she can see it's not a real smile. He corners of his mouth barely lift and it never reaches his eyes, disappointment dominating the pools of blue instead for refusing him this conversation. His words, however, ring true. _Am if you are._

 

**december 20 th**

 

The smell of cookies is slowly filling the kitchen, the hum of the oven comforting as it warms her legs. Elsa is curled up by her feet, clad in two pairs of fluffy socks, the dog's soft belly warming them even more. Carol has a peaceful smile on her face, curling her hands around a steaming mug of tea as she looks through the kitchen window.

 

Outside, Sophia and Jack are building a very crooked snowman.

 

 _How long have they been out there?_ Daryl's voice doesn't startle her the way it used to, back when the presence of a man in the house was still something that constantly awoke bad memories. He steps up behind her, her smile widening when his arms curl around her middle until his hands come to rest on her stomach. His chin finds its place on her shoulder, nose nuzzling into her neck.

 

 _Half an hour,_ she replies with a low voice, setting her mug down to rest her hands on top of his.

 

For a while, they silently watch the children struggling to shove sticks into the snowman's oddly shaped body to give him arms. _What's that yellow thing?_ Daryl asks then, and she knows he's referring to whatever the kids intended to be the snowman's nose. She chuckles, remembering how Sophia had lifted up her little brother so he could jam it into the snow, a lot further to the left than it should be.

 

 _I think it's from your tool box._ They'd rummaged around the shed earlier, and she's been a second away of opening the window and telling them to get out of there before they emerged with grins on their faces and the yellow tool in Sophia's hand.

 

Daryl scoffs, his chest heaving a little against her back. _Great. Don't even look like a nose._ Elsa stirs a little, stretching her legs before resting her head on Daryl's boot.

 

Carol looks down at the sweet sight briefly before turning her head, knowing Daryl can feel the warmth of her breath against his cheek. _You could help them,_ she suggests half-heartedly and with a low voice, raising one hand from his arm to curl around his neck instead.

 

He shakes his head ever so slightly, leaning in until his lips just barely brush against hers. It's not yet a kiss, but she can already taste him, her eyelids beginning to flutter. _Looks like they're doin' just fine on their own,_ he rasps, and then he closes the remaining distance, meeting her in a slow and lazy kiss.

 

**december 22 nd**

 

 _Something I wanna show ya._ Carol quickly closes the tab when Daryl walks into the living room, a little bout of panic shooting through her that he might have seen what she was looking at. It would be just her luck to spoil her own surprise. But he looks distracted, sitting down on the couch next to her with a thick, brown envelope in his hands.

 

Confused, Carol sets her laptop down on the coffee table, lower back aching as she leans forward as far as she can with her legs crossed beneath her. When he offers it she takes the envelope from him, pulling out a thick stack of papers. _What's all this?_ Her question fades into silence as she skims through the papers, form after form that makes little sense to her.

 

 _Adoption papers._ Her eyes open wide at his muttered answer, and she looks up at him with complete surprise. He loos utterly terrified, hasn't looked at her like this in years, teeth worrying his thumbnail as he avoids looking at her. _Been thinking about it for a while,_ he confesses, and she wonders just how long he's been silently planning this, going through the trouble of getting all these papers, of most likely reading up about it all, too terrified to mention it. _'s just... Wanted to ask Sophia if she wants..._ A deep sigh ends his stuttered sentence and he stares at the ground. The papers feel heavy in her limp hands.

 

 _She called me dad the other day, ya know?_ he says quietly, lost in the memory. Carol can feel her eyes watering at the thought. _Apologized for it._ Of course she would have, her father's influence ever present. _But- I just- 's like I am, ya know? Love her just as much as Jack._ She feels so much love for him in this moment that it nearly brings her to tears, but instead she is frozen completely, listening to his stuttering confession as he shifts nervously on the couch. _Ain't no difference to me._

 

He falls silent then, but Carol makes no attempt to speak up, can sense that there is more he wants to say. And when he finally does, a shadow seems to creep into his features. Panic, old demons haunting him once more. _And I can't stop thinking 'bout if something happens to ya._

 

Memories of Jack's birth crawl into her mind, and her eyes flutter down to her lower arms, exposed where she rolled up the sleeves of her sweater – the once smooth skin covered in scars. He must have been so afraid that day, and she feels the same fear every morning she wakes up and every night she goes to bed. It's ever present. Daryl has lost so much, every chance of happiness torn away from him, and she understands all too well just how afraid he is. No matter how hard she tries, she can't ever not allow those intrusive thought of what if. Of what will happen to her little girl without her.

 

 _If Ed wants her, there ain't nothin' I can do, Carol._ Daryl sounds desperate now, almost like he is trying to sell the idea to her, eyes pleading. Like he imagined this all a million times in a million different, terrifying ways. _I ain't got no rights._ He pauses again, finally looking up and meeting her eyes for more longer than a heartbeat. _Wanted ta make sure you're all right with this before I asked her. I mean- Damn it. She's_ your _kid._

 

Finally, he seems to have finished talking. She's overwhelmed by it all, but his last words cut like knifes and she can't let him think like that for even a second longer. Putting the papers down on the couch beside her, she reaches for his hand. _No,_ she says softly. _She_ our _kid._

 

His eyes flicker between her face and their joined hands, something like hope easing the fear that has hardened his features. _So, y'all right with this?_ he asks hesitantly, turning his hand so his palm faces upwards and her fingers slip easily between his.

 

Instead of answering, Carol leans in to kiss him, curling her hand around his neck to steady herself. _I love you,_ she whispers against his lips. _I love you so much._ To her, this is about more than complicated paperwork and making something official that they've all known to be true for a long time now. It's about trust. She is giving him more control than ever before, not just over herself but her little girl. A year ago, she wouldn't have been able to take this step. Now, she wants him to have all this. His name on a piece of paper.

 

His hand naturally finds her back, holding her steady as she shifts onto her knees and climbs onto his lap. _Love ya, too,_ he rasps hoarsely into the kiss, wrapping both hands around her waist. His touch is warm and welcome through the wool of her sweater and she nuzzles into his touch. _All of ya. Y'ain't got a clue how much._ He is holding her against his chest tightly, and Carol finally allows the tears to spill, feeling them warm and tickling down her cheeks, soaking into his shirt.

 

For a few moments, they enjoy the closeness of being together like this, the even rhythm of their breathing, the living room tinted in the soft, glowing light from the tree. But a dark and nagging thought is growing in her mind like weeds, wringing around her heart and making it nearly impossible to enjoy this moment. _Ed will fight this,_ she whispers, curling her hands into Daryl's shirt and holding on. _He doesn't want her, but he'll fight this just to hurt us._

 

One of his hands – large and warm and calloused – runs up and down the length of her back from the neck of her sweater down to the sliver of skin between the brightly patterned wool and the waistband of her sweatpants. _We'll work it out,_ he promises, finally settling his hand in her hair and the other resting against her cheek. _Bastard hasn't seen her in years._ There is spite to his voice, a venom she feels in her own veins. Daryl has never met Ed in person, and she's grateful for that, for the fact that he is no longer in their lives. Except, he is. A constant shadow.

 

 _Hell, when's the last time he payed ya anything?_ She huffs out a humorless laugh at that. The last time she remembers getting any sort of child support from him had been way back before Jack was born. He'd called, calling her the usual names and hissing that she no longer needed his money now that she whored herself out. Not that he paid very much or very frequently before that.

 

Gently tilting her chin up, Daryl looks at her with wide, blue eyes. _And when it's done, he's gone for good._ His lips find her forehead, pressing the slightest kiss there.

 

The thought of finally, _finally_ being free of Ed is amazing, almost as if wings are trying to burst from her ribcage. The thought makes her smile, and as she snuggles into Daryl she realizes she is more than capable and willing to fight this battle with him by her side.

 

And she knows for sure that Sophia will be thrilled about this, that she considers Daryl her father in every single way, even if he can't quite accept it sometimes.

 

**december 24** **th**

 

The small box she's hiding behind her back feels heavier than it should. The edge digs into her tailbone as she walks back into the living room, the smell of cinnamon and orange scented candles mingling with the hearty smell of the dinner they'd enjoyed earlier. The room is glowing with the lights on the tree, and she watches with a smile as Daryl adjusts the last presents under the thick branches.

 

 _Didn't think they'd go to sleep this quickly,_ he says when he spots her, leaning back until he sits on the floor with his legs crossed underneath him. She can only agree to that, the kids having gone to sleep without much hassle. She doesn't want to jinx their good luck, though, and remains silent for a moment.

 

Sitting down on the thick rug next to Daryl, she quickly hides the small box behind the foot of the armchair. _They'll probably be up by four,_ she sighs, remembering last Christmas and how tired her and Daryl had been by the time it was actually reasonable to have breakfast.

 

Eying the tree, Daryl’s warm hand easily finds her knee, drawing gentle circles there. _Yeah,_ he sighs, most likely stuck in the same memory she is. _We should go to bed._

 

A small bout of panic rushes through her. She can't wait any longer. _There's something I-_ She struggles to find the right words, had imagined this a little more grand over the past few weeks. _Wait._ She fumbles for the box, holding it out for Daryl. Her bottom lip nervously finds its way between her teeth.

 

Daryl takes it from her with a look of confusion. _What's this?_

 

 _Early Christmas present,_ she explains, her smile shy and her heart beating furiously in her ribcage. _Open it._ As his fingers slip under the wrapping paper, she moves closer to him, her knee pressing against the outside of his thigh.

 

The wrapping paper falls unceremoniously to the ground and Daryl open the wooden box, staring at the white plastic inside with a blank expression for a moment before realization seems to dawn on him. His eyes go comically wide and he turns to her with a gasp. _Carol- For real? But..._ The words tumble senselessly from his lips. Picking up the white plastic stick and turning around for a moment before spotting the monochrome ultra sound that she tucked beneath it. Her heart flutters when he picks it up with trembling hands. _We did-_

 

The disappointment of the negative pregnancy tests she'd taken is still very real, especially because she'd forced the subject to stay untouched between them. But only because of this. _I was so sure,_ she says quietly. _Didn't want to believe I was wrong so I took a few more tests._ She'd taken three of them, all alone in a tiny hotel bathroom in Atlanta. Two of them had been positive, and she still feels the same giddiness tingling in her blood at the memory.

 

_This is... Are ya really sure?_

 

She laughs softly at that, eying the proof of it in his hands, the blurry image of the life they'd created. _I went to the doctor yesterday,_ she explains, finally giving him the real reason for her oddly timed trip into town.

 

Daryl eyes the picture for a long moment, his next words breathless and oh so quiet. _We're havin' another kid?_

 

She nods, whispering a gentle _yes_. He puts the box and picture away, settling it all down by the stacks of brightly wrapped presents under the tree. His arms reach out for her then, and she climbs onto his lap without further prompting.

 

Their lips find each other naturally, a gentle kiss at first that slowly grows, Daryl’s hands roaming down her back and arms until he rests his palm flat against her stomach, drawing a sigh from her lips. She rocks against him with a whimper, feeling him hard against her thigh, and he tears his lips away with a small groan. Instead, he mouths kisses along her jawline and down her throat, nothing really separating them but thin layers of cotton.

 

His name tumbles from her lips when his hand sneaks beneath her shirt and below the waistband of her sweatpants, cupping her through her underwear. She's warm and wet and aching for him and he must feel it, panting her name and curling the fingers of his free hand into her hair.

 

She can't stifle the moan that tears from her throat when he bucks up into her. _Daryl,_ she gasps, grasping his shoulders desperately – whether to pull him closer or push him away, she doesn't know. _Not under the Christmas tree._

 

All the reply she gets initially is a hoarse chuckle that sends shivers down her spine, and his lips brushing against her throat and the fingers lightly pressing against her entrance through the cotton of her underwear don't make it any easier on her. _Hell, we made a baby on the kitchen table,_ he murmurs against her pulse point, the memory sending small shock waves through her system, bright as fireworks. _We eat breakfast there with the kids. God knows where we made this one._

 

The mere mention of it has her inner muscles clenching painfully, and she shifts a bit closer, grinding against him. He deserves a taste of his own medicine, she decides, nuzzling her face against his neck where he smells of motor oil and pine, teeth just barely grazing his earlobe. _I think I know,_ she breathes, keeping her voice low. _Remember Halloween?_

 

A shudder wrecks him, his hands now both curling around her hips. _Fuck, Carol,_ he grunts, and before she can say more he quickly stands up, hands smoothing down to her thighs, keeping her pressed against him.

 

She yelps in surprise, and still her legs wrap around his waist instinctively, trapping the length of him snugly between their bodies. _Daryl!_ It's half a moan and half a hiss, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he heads towards the stairs.

 

They stumble up the stairs with more than one bout of laughter, barely balancing their bodies in the semi-darkness. Her lips against his neck are a sure distraction but she smiles against his burning skin anyway, relishes in the way he crushes her against him.

 

They have barely made it upstairs and halfway to the bedroom door when a small voice from the end of the hall hits them like a bucket of ice. _Mommy?_

 

 _Shit,_ Daryl grunts against her collarbone, slowly setting her down until her bare feet touch the floor. His hands keep her steady, his eyes pleading when he looks down at her. _Can ya-?_ he asks awkwardly, pointing vaguely down at the erection straining against his pants. The contrast of it compared to his shy expression nearly makes her chuckle.

 

She leans up onto the tips of her toes, pressing her lips to his in a furious kiss, using his surprised gasp to slip her tongue into his mouth. _Wait for me,_ she pants when she pulls away, her hand smoothing down his chest and grazing his hardness ever so accidentally before she turns around and heads to their son's room.

 

As she slowly pushes open the door, the light of at least a hundred fluorescent stars greets her, scattered all over the midnight blue ceiling and walls draped with white cloth. Daryl had spent hours upon hours on this room, lifting Jack up on his shoulders to stick the stars to the ceiling – transforming this room into outer space.

 

 _Sweetie, what's wrong?_ she asks as she sees her son sitting upright in bed, clutching his trusted Olaf to his chest – the nickname has long been laid to rest, but with the worn toy it never quite fades from their memories. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, her hand comes up to smooth through her son's unruly hair.

 

He nervously eyes the door which she left ajar. _Was that Santa Claus?_ he whispers, eyes wide with fear and curiosity alike.

 

It's sweet enough to make her want to shed tears of joy and laugh alike, but she bites back both. Instead, she offers him a reassuring smile, gently tucking him back into bed. _No, that was just daddy,_ she explains quietly, feeling some tension leave his small body. _Close your eyes._ Her lips find his forehead and she lingers there for a moment, breathing in the sweet scent of him and feeling her heart swell in her chest. _It'll be morning before you know it._

 

 _Okay,_ Jack replies, the word barely understandable as he yawns. His eyes find hers then. _Love you, Mommy._ In a quick move he leans up, kissing her cheek.

 

_I love you, too._

 

She smooths out his fluffy blanket, reluctantly rising from the edge of the bed and making her way back to the door on quiet feet. By the time she slips out into the hallway the little boy is half asleep again already, and she watches him silently for a minute as he burrows into his pillows before she tip toes back to the bedroom.

 

Daryl sits on the edge of their bed when she shuts the door behind her, his shirt lost somewhere along the way. His eyes are hopeful when they linger on her, and she feels goosebumps rising all over her body at the intensity of his stare.

 

 _We good?_ he asks, voice low and husky.

 

One corner of her mouth turns up into a wicked smile, and her hands make quick work of pulling her shirt over her head, exposing nothing but bare skin beneath.

 

_Yes, we're good._

**Author's Note:**

> I am so utterly in love this their little family, I just could not resist adding a dog and another baby to it. I hope this was a nice Christmas present for you guys – writing illuminate the heart is still one of the most amazing fic experiences I've ever had. 
> 
> This Christmas-themed addition to the universe will remain a one time thing, but I'm not opposed to writing a little something here and there to explore their lives from time to time (after all, there's clearly a halloween story worth telling hehe)
> 
> Also, you guys might remember that I originally did not intend to ever reveal the baby's name. But considering how much time has passed in the story, it became impossible to avoid it. I hope you're all right with my choice and if not: feel free to stick to Olaf :)
> 
> Lots of love and hugs to all of you!


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